


Midnight Talks

by DGCatAniSiri



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-25
Updated: 2015-12-25
Packaged: 2018-05-09 08:10:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5532074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DGCatAniSiri/pseuds/DGCatAniSiri
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anaan Adaar and Cullen want to have a quiet night. The mark on Anaan's hand might have other ideas.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Midnight Talks

It was late at Skyhold. The Inquisition was, for the moment, at rest. There was no world-shaking task awaiting them. For the time being, the members of the Inquisition were all capable of taking a breath and relaxing. Even the courtyard was empty of soldiers training, and the tavern had issued last call some time ago. For the time being, things at Skyhold were quiet.

It was like that across Skyhold, with only the ambient sounds of night coming in through the balcony doors of the Inquisitor’s quarters. Anaan Adaar liked this time of night. Despite his trappings being far, far beyond the means of a member of the Valo-Kas mercenary band, he could almost pretend that he hadn’t been drafted into the Inquisition, then made its leader. 

Although, since that Valo-Kas mercenary hadn’t had Cullen Rutherford in his bed, that was a fringe benefit.

Granted, at that moment, Cullen wasn’t directly in the bed, but the fact that he was in the Inquisitor’s room, down to just his smallclothes, that was certainly something that had been little more than an idle thought for the mercenary. And for the Inquisitor, it was a fact of day-to-day existence.

Cullen had, in an act that was equally frustrating and endearing, brought some of his paperwork with him. Of course, the room had, over the last few months, begun to reflect the both of them more than just Anaan, to the point that Josephine had begun referring to the tower that Cullen had originally claimed as his office, rather than his tower or room. 

Anaan sighed, recognizing that, based on the position of the moons, it was far too late to be busy focusing on something that constituted work. “Cullen.” He was pleased that his voice was able to cut through the haze of paperwork despite how wrapped up in it Cullen could be. “It’s late. Too late for you to be working like this.”

Cullen had the decency to be abashed at Anaan’s remark. “I’m... I’m sorry. I suppose I’ve just been... preoccupied, as of late.”

“You should come to bed. I can think of other things that can... occupy your thoughts,” Anaan said, smirking at the thought of what he could do to alternatively draw Cullen’s focus. 

And Cullen clearly needed little clarification, based on the slight blush that came to his cheeks. He rarely did that anymore, and Anaan was always pleased if he could elicit that reaction. “I... suppose I have been working quite a bit. It’s the talk we’ve been hearing from the Chantry. Now that they’re reorganizing, they’re questioning our military. Not to mention the forces from Ferelden and Orlais...”

“Cullen...” Anaan said warningly. The paperwork could wait. More than once, Anaan had been of the opinion that all the various forces that tried to impose their will and beliefs on the Inquisition could simply go hang, they weren’t the ones who’d dealt with Corypheus and the Breach. They’d been too busy panicking to offer any kind of organized resistance to him. It had been up to the Inquisition to resolve things. If they wanted to swoop in after the fact and try to claim any kind of credit or responsibility, they were in for a rude awakening.

Cullen seemed to get the hint at that point. “You’re right, of course. The paperwork can wait for some other time.” He set down the quill he’d been using and rose. Anaan took a moment to admire his lover’s physique, seeing the fine work that those years of training with the sword and shield had done for him. There was a definition that Anaan, being a mage, lacked, even with the qunari build slanting towards muscle by nature. 

When Cullen moved close enough, Anaan reached out and pulled him close, kissing him. Their arms wrapped around one another, holding the other close. Anaan let himself go in the kiss, doubling down on the idea that this was something that he approved of for the life of the Inquisitor, as opposed to the life of the Valo-Kas mercenary. 

They fell back onto the bed, Cullen landing on top of Anaan. They’d done this enough that they managed to avoid either of Anaan’s horns spearing the pillows – they weren’t going to make that mistake again. 

As they lay on the bed, taking their time, Cullen suddenly jumped as Anaan’s hand moved. “That’s new,” he said, sounding surprised.

“I think I’ve touched every part of you before,” Anaan said, sounding a little miffed at the thought that Cullen had forgotten him having touched anywhere on his lover.

But Cullen had pushed out of the haze of arousal, shaking his head. “That... wasn’t what I meant,” He rolled over and off Anaan, glancing behind him. 

As he did, the mark on Anaan’s hand sparked, having been the source of Cullen’s sudden surprise. Anaan grimaced at the sudden flare of magic. Cullen saw that the mark’s glow seemed to expand, even further than it had in the past. It then faded out, returning to its normal, natural grey. And, Cullen realized, Anaan was breathing quite heavily, and there was a light sheen of sweat on his face.

“Anaan. Anaan, are you all right?” Cullen asked, examining Anaan in greater detail, now no longer considering the things he wanted to do to Anaan, save have him examined by the healers. 

Struggling to force his breathing back to normal, Anaan nodded. “O-of course,” he got out, in a voice full of strain, undermining his words. 

Cullen was not convinced. He hopped off the bed, reaching for his pants. He wasn’t ashamed of his relationship with Anaan, but he believed that walking to the medical ward in just his smallclothes would send the wrong message to the people of Skyhold. “That didn’t look ‘all right.’ We should have you checked out.”

“What’s the healer going to do, Cullen? Stare at the mark again and say ‘hm, that’s unusual’ again?” No one had been able to explain the mark. The closest to an expert that they’d encountered had been Solas, who’d known something about the orb that Corypheus had used. Of course, he’d been missing ever since the final fight with Corypheus, much to Leliana’s consternation. 

Cullen seemed to recognize something from Anaan’s statement. “This isn’t the first time that the mark has done that, was it?” Anaan didn’t meet his gaze. “Anaan... Why didn’t you say anything?”

“What could I say? What could I say about it that wouldn’t have worried you?”

“Yes, because this just happening in our room, that’s not going to worry me either! Anaan... If something is happening to you... I want to know.” He paused, turning away from him. “I need to know. Anaan... Please.” 

With his unmarked hand, Anaan reached out to Cullen, recognizing his mistake. “I’m sorry, Cullen. I... To be honest, I wasn’t really ready to admit this. Not even to myself.” He closed his eyes, not quite able to bring himself to say this to anyone, even his lover. “The mark has always been... It’s never stopped being painful. It’s been a constant ache, something that I’ve learned to ignore, at least most of the time. It’s only started flaring up recently. And... I’ve been trying to avoid thinking about what that might mean.”

It took Cullen a moment to put together his meaning – the mark had extended beyond his palm when it had flared up this time. Cullen hadn’t seen it do that before. If whatever magic that fed it was growing... If it was feeding on Anaan himself... “You’re worried about how far it will spread.” Anaan nodded. 

They were both silent for a moment. Neither of them really knew what to say to that. 

“Do you think it’s possible to remove it?” Cullen asked. “Because of the rifts that remained, we never looked into the matter, but... It’s been months since we received word of new ones, and you’ve closed all we know of... Surely Vivienne or even Dorian could offer us some kind of...” He trailed off, recognizing that for all their combined knowledge of the arcane, even if they called in Fiona and her mages, they were still dealing with magic that was older than recorded history. What did they really know, what would they be able to offer that would be able to help?

But Anaan nodded. “I could ask them, see if they could offer anything that might help.” He paused for a beat. Then he looked back to Cullen. “Cullen... No matter what, I love you.”

“And I you. That’s why this frightens me so much,” Cullen said, gently taking hold of Anaan’s marked hand with one of his own. He waited for Anaan to pull it away, but his lover showed no indication that he was going to do so. “You said that it... always aches?” Cullen asked.

“Has since I fell out of the Fade with it,” Anaan nodded.

“You’ve never said anything.”

Anaan chuckled slightly. “I’m Qunari, Cullen. You don’t get the grey skin and horns without developing a high pain tolerance, even if you’re a mage. ‘Play’ for little Qunari, at least among those outside the Qun, involves a lot of ‘roughhousing,’ and if you don’t have a bunch of bruises the next day, you weren’t doing it right.”

To Cullen, it sounded almost callous, the idea that children would be allowed to play so rough. But then, he supposed, he’d never tried raising a Qunari child. And, he supposed, he had never done so amongst several other Qunari children. The rules must be different, if they’d result in people who found their best chances in life were to join mercenary bands. 

Still... “I wish you’d have told me.”

“You wouldn’t have been able to do anything about it,” Anaan said, though he sounded touched by Cullen’s words.

“But then you wouldn’t have had to bear this alone.” Cullen pulled closer to Anaan. He let go of the marked hand and reached up to cup Anaan’s face in his hands. “I know I can’t take away your pain, but... You wouldn’t have had to keep it quiet. You would have been able to... Have a place where you could talk about it, even... even let out that pain.”

“If you’re suggesting that I ought to have let that pain out on you-”

“No, no, that’s not what I meant. I’ve long since given up that unfortunate habit of punishing myself for what I couldn’t prevent. But... How often have I come to you, concerned about something, be it the lyrium or the troops or anything that we’ve had to face, and you’ve listened to me rant and rave and ramble... All the while feeling this pain?” Anaan couldn’t meet Cullen’s gaze, which told him all he needed to know. “I may not have been able to offer more than comfort for you, but you would have had that.”

Anaan wrapped both of his hands around Cullen’s arms, wincing slightly as the skin around the mark made contact with Cullen’s own. He just wanted the sensation of touching his lover right then, and he could ignore that pain, at least for a few moments. “I always knew it was there. And I have it now.”

That brought a smile to Cullen’s face. “So you do.” He gently kissed Anaan, then pushed him back onto the bed. For a moment, he considered starting something, but his concern for his lover outweighed his libido. “Let’s get some sleep, love. We can still consult with the others tomorrow. Tonight...”

“Tonight... I think I just want the man I love to be here, with me,” Anaan finished, understanding entirely what Cullen was getting at.

It was slightly awkward, curling up with Cullen holding the seven foot with horns Qunari, especially if they wanted to be certain that Anaan didn’t accidentally spear Cullen with one of those horns. But they managed, and Anaan took great comfort in the feeling of Cullen’s arms wrapped around him.

Whatever else might come, he at least had this.


End file.
